Better

by Carey Heywood

  I turn onto my back and look up at the ceiling. “I just miss her.” I glance over at him. “This trip was supposed to be for her.”

  He looks at me confused, so I go on. “While she was sick, we planned this amazing trip she would take when she got better. She left the trip for me to take instead after she died.”

  “I had no idea,” he says, shaking his head.

  “I know.” I laugh dryly. “I heard you that first night in the hallway, telling someone about the spoiled girl you were stuck with.”

  He drops his forehead to the pillow. “Wow. I was a total asshole, wasn’t I?”

  I hold my index finger and thumb up to show how much of an asshole I thought he was, giggling when he acts like he’s going to bite my hand.

  Not long after, he goes off in search of breakfast while I get ready. After breakfast, we hire a car to take us to see the Chausath Khamba. It has all of these domes, but they’re reversed, and the monument has a flat roof.

  Adam is in heaven. He takes a ton of pictures, sometimes focusing on the minutest details.

  From there, we have a car take us to John William Hessing’s tomb, also known as the Red Taj Mahal. It’s within a Roman Catholic cemetery. I have some of Ally’s ashes with me, not that she ever spoke of this place. She didn’t. I only discovered it while planning the trip with my mom.

  It’s nowhere near as big or grand as the real Taj Mahal, but something about it intrigues me. It was commissioned by a wife of a Dutch soldier after his death. It was built with red sandstone and mimics the original Taj Mahal.

  It’s missing the four towers though. The wife ran out of money before it was finished. I hope it’s someplace Ally will enjoy being. I think she would have loved the romance of the story and the idea that it’s not as well known.

  It’s surrounded by other graves, some larger than others. Some markers aren’t unlike the gravestones of a modern day U.S. cemetery. There’s also a grouping of domed structures to the one side of Hessing’s tomb. It’s here where I sit, legs crossed, and I spread Ally’s ashes.

  Adam is off somewhere, taking pictures. I think this spot is pretty, and I like that there’s some shade, probably more for me than for Ally. I’m not sure what to do or what to say. I finally decide to tell her about Adam. I speak quietly since there are other people around, not many, but I don’t want to look crazy. I set a sheet of paper on the ground in front of me that I can plausibly say I’m reading if anyone hears me.

  It just feels right to talk to her about the boy in my life. I tell her what he looks like and what a pain in my ass he was in the beginning. I admit to her that I did some things I’m not proud of, particularly sneaking off the two times. I tell her what his kisses feel like and how sometimes I feel breathless in his arms. I look around to make sure I’m still alone when I tell her I’m scared that I’m falling for him. My hand still rests on her earthly remains. It’s then when I feel the power of how gone she is.

  If she were here, it would be now that I would ask for her advice. A cooling breeze kicks up, ruffling my hair and pushing the oppressive heat that led me to sit in the first place away from me. I’m not sure why, but I feel her presence so strongly in this moment. She’s the breeze all around me. She’s so close, but I still can’t hug her. It’s not enough, but since it’s all I have, I close my eyes and try to feel her with all I have.

  When the moment passes and I no longer feel her, I open my eyes to see Adam standing off a ways, watching me. I flex my hand, mentally giving Ally all my love, before standing up to go meet him. He sees me coming and moves toward me as well.

  “Get some good pictures?” I ask.

  He reaches for my hand, his thumb brushing over the top of it. He ignores my question. “You okay? You looked so sad a minute ago.”

  I turn my head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Being in a cemetery just made me think about Ally.”

  He squeezes my hand. “That makes sense. Will some sweets cheer you up?”

  I look back at him. “What?”

  “Some guy back that way told me we’re crazy if we haven’t tried any of the famous Agra sweets.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for?”

  Our car picks us up from the hotel to take us back to the airport in New Delhi. From there, we’re headed to China.

  We have a layover in Shanghai, but it’s the kind where we just wait on the plane. I use this time to try to get Adam to open up more about his past.

  I lay my head on his shoulder, placing my hand atop his as it rests on my leg. “What made you decide to lose the weight?”

  I can hear his slight intake of air as he processes my question. After a long pause, he says, “It just got in the way.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me?”

  He rests his cheek on top of my head. “It’s just not something I talk about.”

  I let it go, relaxing against him for the remainder of our journey. When we land in Beijing and after going through health, quarantine, and immigration, we find out my luggage is missing.

  “But we never even changed planes,” I try in vain to stress to the agent at the customer service desk for our airline.

  My tears confuse Adam. He tries to tell me everything will be all right and anything I had can be replaced. I can’t tell him right there about Ally’s ashes. I’m beside myself as I watch Adam give the airline clerk our hotel information in case my luggage turns up. He doesn’t understand why I don’t want to leave, why I want to stay, and why I want them to let me search the plane myself. He even gets annoyed at me when I start crying in the baggage claim area.

  It’s not until we’re in the taxi on the way to the hotel when I tell him that Ally’s ashes are in there. He slides across the backseat and pulls me into his arms.

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t know.” He squeezes me. “If you want, we can go back and make sure they’re searching for your luggage.”

  He’s only half-serious. We both know the airline wouldn’t do anything differently if we were there. It just makes me feel a little better that he offers.

  The taxi ride to the hotel is a blur. It’s late, I’m upset, and I’m not that interested in Beijing at the moment. I stand off to the side while Adam checks us in at the hotel.

  Not caring about the time difference, I call my parents when we get up to our room. I know they won’t be able to do anything. I just need to hear their voices. Adam goes down to the gift shop to get us food to snack on. We completely skipped dinner, except for the fruit the room came stocked with.

  “I don’t think I can eat anything,” I admit, feeling sick from not knowing where my bag is.

  “Maybe a drink?” he asks cautiously.

  It only reminds me of conversations I had with Ally, trying to get her to eat before she died. He watches me with an expression of confusion as I dissolve into fresh tears. How can he know that trying to get me to eat will only remind me of her? I know I’m poor company. It doesn’t stop me from being upset. Adam still tries to distract me.

  He eventually gives up, and we fall asleep apart for the first time in days.

  When I awake the next morning, Adam is not asleep next to me. But somehow my luggage is in front of me. I tear into it, looking for the wooden box that holds Ally’s ashes. Adam watches quietly from across the room as tears of relief stream down my face. After wiping my tears away, I motion for him to come and sit by me.

  “How?” I look at him.

  “I went down to the front desk. The airline had found your luggage and sent it right over.”

  I hug Ally’s ashes to my chest and close my eyes. Silly as it seems, I introduce him to Ally. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable or weirded out by it. Now that I no longer need to hide her box, I rest her by the window.

  I can finally relax and appreciate the coolness of our room. The Emperor, our hotel, overlooks the pagodas of the Forbidden City. Even though it’s surrounded by all of this history, it has a decidedly modern Ikea-ish feel. Our room has white and
sage green as the accent color scheme. There’s a line mimicking the skyline of the Forbidden City painted onto the green strip of paint that breaks up one wall.

  On the way to breakfast, I notice the buttons in the elevator are in English too. We have breakfast on the rooftop deck before walking over to the Forbidden City. It was once a palace but is now an incredible museum. We spend most of the day looking at paintings, jade pieces, and Ming Dynasty vases.

  Adam can’t stop taking pictures of the buildings and the pagoda-topped towers. We spend part of the afternoon in the gardens until we have to stop for a late lunch. My feet are sore even though I’m wearing comfortable sandals.

  We stumble across an unexpected gem of a restaurant near Jingshan Park. There’s a beautiful courtyard lined with small red statues on the sides and black ones haphazardly across the middle. They come just below my knee and are all slightly different.

  We feel slightly underdressed once we enter the main building, but the staff is so accommodating that we feel instantly at ease. They speak English, which relaxes me because I know I can trust what I’m ordering. The food is expensive, but the experience is worth it. There are multiple courses and unexpected dishes between the ordered courses.

  This is my first experience in eating food that looks more like art. My main dish is a beef bourguignon, and Adam’s is a seafood en papillote. We’re stuffed after the breads, salads, cheeses, pastas, and our main dishes.

  Our walk back to the hotel is refreshing. It feels like we’re simultaneously in two worlds, the ancient moat and walls of the Forbidden City on one side and our modern hotel on the other.

  The shower in our bathroom is double-sized with two large rain-style showerheads and multiple body-level nozzles. What starts as a joke about saving water and showering together turns into an afternoon of lovemaking.

  By this point, I feel so comfortable with Adam that his touch and the feel of his body are as comforting as they are passionate. My experience prior to him was limited. He has enjoyed being my teacher. Now, I learn what turns him on, what drives him crazy, and what can be his undoing.

  Ever my explorer, the first man, he unlocks secrets of my body I did not know existed. In his presence and under his eyes, I am all woman, the apex of everything he desires. Confidence can be a fluid thing.

  The next morning, Adam posts a couple of pictures from our day before to Twitter. Almost instantly, one receives a reply. That’s not uncommon. He has friends and followers remarking on the pictures he posts all the time. However, this virtual friend, a Russian model named Katya, happens to also be in Beijing and would love to hook up—her words, not mine.

  We’re getting ready to head out the door to go visit the Great Wall, so he direct messages her to meet him—his words, not mine—at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel that night.

  When he isn’t looking, I sneak a peek at her profile pic. She’s tall, has blonde hair down to her ass, and an amazing body. In a word, she’s gorgeous.

  These ugly seeds of doubt began to worm their way into my head. I’m no longer this unstoppable love goddess. I’m now short, pale, gangly, and unstylish. I pout at my reflection in the mirror, wishing my hair were longer or my cheekbones were more pronounced.

  He comes up beside me to brush his teeth. He’s in a good mood, excited about meeting a virtual friend in real life. I grab my toothbrush and put on my best happy face, my mind a chaos of what-ifs. I know Adam doesn’t want a relationship. It was the first thing he said to me the night of our first kiss. What if he’s attracted to her?

  I go to the wooden box that holds Ally’s ashes and begin carefully pouring some into the smaller plastic box that fits in my cross-body bag. I feel kind of ashamed, like I’m missing the bigger picture. I need to remain focused on what this trip is about, and as much fun as Adam is, I need to make sure I don’t lose myself in him. He’s temporary. This Eden we’ve created will end the day the trip does, if not sooner.

  I turn. I didn’t realize he was watching me.

  “Can I look?” he asks, motioning toward the still open box. “I’ve never seen…” His voice trails off.

  “Of course,” I reply.

  He walks over slowly, almost nervous to disturb the air. He doesn’t pick up the box. He just peers into it and tilts it, so some of the ashes inside shift.

  “It’s strange to think this is what’s left of what once was…” I pause, gently pressing the lid shut. “My best friend.”

  He puts his arm around my shoulders, and he pulls me to him and holds me.

  I don’t cry every time I think about her, like I did in the beginning. It doesn’t mean that I miss her any less now than I did then. It’s just that the shock of the pain has dulled over time.

  It was the worst when things were brand new with Adam. She would have been the person I confided in. I suppose there’s still my mom, but that’s different. It hurts that I won’t get to tell Ally all about him.

  Because of all the walking we did the day before, we decide against walking over to the train station to the Great Wall even though our guidebook says it’s only a twenty-minute walk. Even after all of the planning we did, it takes us twice as long as we expect to actually get onto the wall. A train ride, a bus ride, a short walk that takes forever because of how crowded it is. The ticket line to get to the wall, then the choice between waiting and paying for the cable car ride up or taking the steps.

  Even though there’s a wait for the cable car, I talk Adam into skipping the steps. I’m already done with the wall, and I haven’t even stepped one foot onto it.

  “Are we there yet?” There’s no withholding the whine from my tone.

  The nonstop traveling is taking its toll on me. We should have scheduled more down days to recover. Our assumption that we could rest on the long flights was foolish. It’s impossible to get comfortable in the seats, and even with headphones on, there’s always some sort of distraction to keep us from really sleeping.

  He takes a deep breath, like he’s willing himself to be calm with me. “I know it has been an ordeal getting here, but once we get in the cable car, our next stop will be the wall.”

  I feel awful for annoying Adam. I do. It’s just that the whole process of getting to where we’re at that moment sucks, and I’m not handling it as well as he is.

  We’re visiting the Badaling area of the wall because it’s the closest to Beijing. That’s probably the same reason everyone else is. Once we’re on the wall, to give each other some space, Adam goes to one side, and I go to the other. My annoyance evaporates with minutes of actually being on the wall.

  I find Adam, and we start walking away from the crowds. Thank God we’re both wearing sneakers with good traction. The pathway of the wall isn’t always level. There are plenty of stairs, some steeper than others, but the slick spots are in these smooth pitched inclines. It rains almost every afternoon in the summer, and the stones aren’t always dried out from the day before. I pity anyone around us in flip-flops.

  It takes some time and more stairs than I ever want to climb, but we find ourselves almost alone on the Great Wall of China. Our expressions mirror each other’s, like, Holy shit, this is really cool.

  Adam actually smiles. He fists the front of my T-shirt and pulls me to him, planting his lips on mine. It’s excitement, enthusiasm, and pure joy in sharing this experience together. We break our kiss and look in either direction to see this never-ending wall, this wonder of the world.

  Sobering up a bit, Adam tucks a strand of my wind-tussled hair behind my ear. “Would you like to be alone when you…” He lets the shrug of his shoulder finish his question.

  He wants to give me space to be with Ally. I rest my hands on his shoulders, lifting up onto my toes to dust my lips across his, before nodding. He takes his camera and goes to take pictures, giving me some time to myself.

  I look out over the greenery, the sloping mountainside full of dips and valleys, and I hold the small plastic box. I consciously let my mind fill itself
with Ally. I have a picture show ready on demand. Her kind eyes, her smile, even how she kind of always smelled like vanilla.

  With each stop, as I leave a piece of her behind, the pretty wooden box she rests in gets lighter. With each stop, I am leaving a piece of myself with her in my grief. I pause my internal reflection as a small group passes me.

  Life is like that. One moment, you can feel like the only person in the world, and the next, you’re suddenly within a sea of people.

  As quickly as they come, they continue on, and I’m alone again. This isn’t like the other times where I placed her ashes on the ground. This time, I reach my arm out as far as I can through one of the openings in the wall, and I just let her go.

  She doesn’t just crash down to the ground far, far below. The wind catches her, and for a brief moment, she seems suspended in midair before she’s gone. She will become part of this place. The rain will come later in the day to dissolve her into the earth.

  It gives me peace, knowing that would have made her happy. I can imagine her thinking of all the schoolchildren who come here on field trips. It’s a place of wonder and possibilities.

  Adam stands a ways off, leaning against the opening of a watchtower. I motion for him to come over to me, and he does.

  He drapes his arm around my shoulders and kisses the side of my head, which is strangely comforting. “You okay?”

  I nod, slipping my hand into his. We stay in that spot a few more moments. Adam takes a picture of a bird in flight, and then suddenly, an entire flock takes flight before us. If he hadn’t already had his camera ready, he would have missed it.

  Once they’re out of sight, he turns to look at me, eyes wide. “Whoa.”

  I laugh. “That was awesome.”

  He peers down at his camera, scratching the back of his head in almost disbelief.

  We slowly make our way back down to the cable car. He wisely bought some snacks from the hotel gift shop before we left that morning. We eat as we sit on a bench, waiting for the train to take us back to Beijing. Even though I wore comfortable shoes, my feet throb from the two hours we spent walking the wall.